


With Panache

by orphan_account



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: F/M, M/M, shoes because why not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-15 08:23:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4599720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>William smiled. His teeth were very white and very even and their general aura of cleanliness made Ronald quite uncomfortable. </p>
<p>“An additional inch or two could only be an advantage to you, Ronald,” William replied. “You ought to explore the theory.”</p>
<p>Ronald sighed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With Panache

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry there's been no writing. It's been a bad time for me. I only post this silliness because Mr.Spears insists. To understand, you must first view this link. Then all will be clear to you. Click here: http://www.charlotterusse.com/product/Trends/Modern-90s-Style/Lace-Up-Wedge-Platform-Oxfords/pc/3204/c/0/sc/3741/299205.uts

-

 

“Why?” Ronald pleaded. “Just, why?”

Will was having a bad day. It was written on the thin white lines pursing his lips, and the acidic glare of sunlight on his glasses. With every word that Ronald spoke, the lines whitened, the glare deepened, and, just a little bit, hatred further poisoned an already black and empty heart. 

No, today was not a good day. 

“Ronald,” William replied at last, choosing his words with great care. “You have never been my favorite employee. And I suspect that I am not your favorite overseer either. We have many things that we mutually disagree on. Your senior, Grell Sutcliff, and his behavior…”

“Her behavior,” Ronald interjects mutinously. He regrets it when he shifts his weight and his toes pinch painfully. 

William smiles at him, a glitter of teeth. Ronald thinks irresistibly of hammerhead sharks. 

“If you recall,” his boss continues, as if Ronald has not spoken, “I gave you your assignment because I believed in you and I truly believed in the capabilities you displayed so willingly upon your arrival. You understand that a challenge like Mr. Grell Sutcliff can have repercussions?”

Ronald was not having a good day either. 

Unfortunately for Ronald, there was less he could do about it. 

He shifted his weight again and winced as his shoes-his poor shoes!-made a hideous, plastic squeaking sound. 

“Well, yes,” he agreed, knowing when it was important to agree with what William said and when it was possible to get a line in edgewise. Today, it is important to nod and smile and make the boss happy. 

“Do you want to be reassigned? I thought I understood from your passionate outburst not three days ago that you believe strongly in Grell and his capabilities?” 

“Her,” Ronald muttered, mutinously.

William paused. 

“I beg your pardon?”

“Her capabilities?” Ronald answered, wide eyed, matching his bosses’ polite tone. “You said his. You meant hers. I assume.”

There was a long and deathly pause. 

“Of course,” William agreed, his voice frosty. 

There was another pause. Ronald had to hold very still to so his shoes didn’t squeak again. His poor shoes. They hadn’t deserved this. Nothing would deserve this.  
Unable to think of any other way to break the silence, he opened his mouth.  
“My feet just hurt.”

Both men looked down at the feet in question, and were not disappointed. The white leather oxfords, so neat and stylish, had been kidnapped at some late hour and now they stood six inches taller, boosted on thick white platforms. 

“I expect you to be aware of Grell’s eccentric,” Will replied coolly. “This is merely one of them. It does not warrant my attention.”

Ronald had spent the night three days ago complaining loudly to Grell, very drunk, about how he was tired of being the comparative Pomeranian of the world of height.  
“I can only question the logistics of running in these, sir,” he said, finally, a bit hopelessly. 

William smiled. His teeth were very white and very even and their general aura of cleanliness made Ronald quite uncomfortable. 

“An additional inch or two could only be an advantage to you, Ronald,” William replied. “You ought to explore the theory.”

Ronald sighed. 

“Yes sir.”

There was no use. He had been working his way up through the layers of secretaries and PA’s that his boss surrounded himself with, a court of admirers and an armor of efficiency, and it had all been for naught. He had hoped against hope that William’s stickler for dress code would override his desire to sulk over the last time Ronald had run his mouth. 

So it was Ronald’s turn to sulk out the door, dragging his scythe and clomping his shoes, making sure to let the door fall shut with a slam. Maybe if he was lucky it would knock over an inkwell. 

William watched his employee go and sat at his desk for a while, thinking about what a high heel did for one’s figure.


End file.
